


ruin

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: M/M, Minor Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Trans Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:21:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25574239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The Lance of Ruin isn't the only thing Miklan steals from Sylvain.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Miklan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46
Collections: Anonymous





	ruin

Sure, it took some effort to get his hands on the Fraldarius brat. A great amount of effort, in fact, snatching him from some practice battle they’d run on the grounds of the monastery and dragging him away. In the end it had taken two of his best men and a dagger to his throat to make him stop resisting. Miklan didn’t mind a fight. The fight was what got his blood pumping, and when it came to sex the fight was what got his dick hard. Always had been. You’d think he’d hate it, having to work for this the way he’d worked for everything in life, another uphill trek carrying heavy stones, but this was different.

Now he has him, and Sylvain isn’t here to throw himself valiantly at anything that might hurt his precious little playmate. 

Felix fights him tooth and nail when he goes to fuck him, when the realization washes over him like an ice cold bath in freezing temperatures. When Miklan tears at that fucking Academy uniform, a uniform he’d never gotten to wear. 

(Not that he’d ever fucking wanted to, but it would have been nice if his parents had at least offered to send him to Garreg Mach instead of left him to rot.)

Felix spits in his face when Miklan tugs his pants down his thighs, hobbling him and making it a whole lot harder for those strong legs to put up a fight. Still, he tried, struggling against the hold Miklan has on his wrists, shifting his weight to try and swing his legs to knock him off balance.

Miklan rewards his efforts with a punch in the mouth, gauntlet splitting his sneering lips open. Blood looks good on Felix, he decides, spilling from his lip and onto the pristine collar of his shirt, dyeing it red. Gautier red, he thinks, and the irony isn’t lost on him. In another situation, Felix would probably love to see that color on him. 

Felix’s eyes are crimson fire as he looks up at him, burning with hatred, and it just makes Miklan’s dick harder. He wants to be hated, now that he’s got nothing left to lose. Sylvain doesn’t hate him, that’s the worst part of it. The fucking idiot kid feels _sorry_ for him, and that’s even worse.

After this, though? He’ll hate him. He’ll hunt him, dispatch on the Margrave’s orders to reclaim the lance, maybe try and run it through him as some kind of revenge for what he’s going to do to his pretty boyfriend. When he’s there, all alone and stupid with rage, Miklan will succeed. There won’t be any stupid servant girls to pull Sylvain out of the well this time, no doting mother to bandage his wounds and send Miklan to his room.

Fuck, the idea of finally being rid of Sylvain has him going even more than the idea of raping the brat his brother loves so much. His cock is rock fucking hard when he whips it out of his pants, nearly hurting himself with the laces - they fucking _burn_ where they drag across his swollen cock. Felix’s eyes flick down, and it must be pure instinct that makes him fight with renewed fervor, struggling against his impromptu bonds and the oppressive hold he’s trapped in.

Miklan doesn’t bother with any formalities. He’s sure Sylvain does, sure the usurper of his title probably takes a good and proper amount of time running his fingers along that slack space between Felix’s legs, waits until he’s nice and slick before he even slides a finger inside. He imagines Felix slick and hungry, pussy lips suckling at the finger teasing him, letting out a moan when he’s spread on Sylvain’s fingers, moan turning jagged and thin as he gets cock instead. There won’t be any of that tonight, and he’s not here to make him feel good. It’s not that Miklan doesn’t know how to touch a cunt, it’s that he doesn’t care. This isn’t about that.

Miklan spits on his hand and curls it around his cock, jerking roughly until there’s precum oozing from the head. He lifts Felix’s legs over one shoulder and lines up, blunt, swollen cockhead against his tight cunt. Felix doesn’t beg him _no, please_ and he doesn’t spit _fuck you_ , not that either one would have made a difference. Still, interesting. His pride knows no bounds.

Miklan’s vision whites out when he slams into Felix’s resistant body, knocking the breath out of both of their lungs. Felix chokes out a sob as Miklan bottoms out inside of him too soon, far too deep for it to be any kind of comfortable for him. Fucking _good._ Miklan’s balls pinch up tight when Felix’s walls clench around him and it takes everything he has not to blow his load in him right there, leave him dripping with it for his kid brother to find.

Fuck, he can see why his brother’s so obsessed with the little cunt. Felix is tight as shit, and not really wet enough to make it any easier, but the squeeze is still nice and he’s hot inside. He’s probably chafing his dick and he doesn’t care, fucking in and out of Felix at a bruising pace, happy when he finally pulls a raw, ragged whimper from his throat. It’s high and airy, unwillingly given, and he relishes in it.

Miklan hopes that the bitch remembers. He hopes he remembers his face, scarred and vicious and ugly, every time Sylvain Jose Gautier climbs on top of him to fuck him. He hopes he remembers how, just for a moment, it was _his_ cock that filled that void between his legs, how it was _him_ who owned that little part of him. 

He hopes that the boy who’d stolen everything from him loses sleep over it; how first Miklan had taken the Lance and then he’d taken Felix. He hopes that little Felix Fraldarius spends the rest of his life waking out of nightmares, hopes that maybe, if he lets Sylvain live, Felix will cower in fear of him.

It’s that thought that propels Miklan over the edge, thinking of the thing Sylvain loves most being afraid of him. His balls pull up tight and his hips lose their focus fucking in and out of the tightest cunt he’s ever had and he knows he’s close. Slamming into him with enough force to bruise, he empties his load inside of him with a groan, catching the barest whimper to match the way Felix’s face is screwed up in pain.

He leaves Felix half naked on the floor, slack cunt drooling his cum and wrists and ankles bound - a nice present for Sylvain when the cavalry arrives.


End file.
